Fish, the old man said. Fish, you are going to have to die anyway. Do you have to kill me too?
Fish, he said, I love you and respect you very much. But I will kill you dead before this day ends.
Clearly I miss Him, having been brought up in religion. But now a man must be responsible to himself.
After writing a story I was always empty and both sad and happy, as though I had made love, and I was sure this was a very good story although I would not know truly how good until I read it over the...
ما أضيق العيش لولا فسحة الأمل
بعد الانتهاء من كتاب أشعر بأنني مستنزف عاطفياً.إذا لم يحدث معك ذلك، لن تتمكن من نقل المشاعر لقارئك.
One cup of it took the place of the evening papers, of all the old evenings in cafés, of all chestnut trees that would be in bloom now in this month, of the great slow horses of the outer boulevards,...
You've such a lovely temperature.
You find everything on earth at Harry's.
You can either buy clothes or buy pictures, she said. It's that simple. No one who is not very rich can do both. Pay no attention to your clothes and no attention at all to the mode, and buy your clot...
Who do you suppose has it easier? Ones with religion or just taking it straight? It comforts them very much but we know there is no thing to fear. It is only missing it that's bad. Dying is only bad w...
When she goes, he though. I'll have all I want. Not all I want but all there is
We went down the stairs to the café on the ground floor. I had discovered that was the best way to get rid of friends. Once you had a drink all you had to say was: Well, I’ve got to get back and get o...
We made love and then made love again and then after we had made love once more, quiet and dark and unspeaking and unthinking and then like a shower of meteors on a cold night, we went to sleep.
We ate well and cheaply and we drank well and cheaply and we slept well and warm together and loved each other.
This was a big storm and he might as well enjoy it. It was ruining everything, but you might as well enjoy it
Think about after the war and when you will paint again. There are so many good ones to paint and if you paint as well as you really can and keep out of all other things and do that, it is the true th...
There was nothing to do about him. It was Easter Sunday and the Fascists were advancing toward the Ebro. It was a gray overcast day with a low ceiling so their planes were not up. That and the fact th...
Then they were together so that as the hand on the watch moved, unseen now, they knew that nothing could ever happen to the one that did not happen to the other, that no other thing could happen more...
Then he began to pity the great fish that he had hooked. He is wonderful and strange and who knows how old he is, he thought.